


Blood

by novacita (actually_satan)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Demon Dean Winchester, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 15:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actually_satan/pseuds/novacita
Summary: Sam can't resist Dean's blood.





	Blood

_Just one more drop of blood._

_One more._

_One more._

_**One more.** _

Sam shook his head and clenched his fists tightly. He did all he could to avoid direct eye-contact with his brother who sat tied to the bed, smirking at him. Dean wasn’t himself. He was a demon now, through and through, but Sam would fix him. He had to.

Dean had always been irresistible to Sam, something tantalizing, and this demonic version of his brother was no different. He always looked at Sam with these seductive, knowing eyes that slipped into darkness if only for a split second to remind him of who he was really talking to. When they first met face to face, he held a dagger to Dean’s throat, but his brother kept that same expression. Taunting.

Dean slid the knife from his hand easily because, for some reason, Sam let him. At first he thought the demon would cut his throat and watch him bleed out, but he didn’t. Dean raised his left arm, pressed the knife against his forearm, and split open the skin. Drops of red blood slid down and fell to the floor with a drip that seemed so loud in the quiet hall.

Sam thought he was way, way past the whole demon blood thing, but the moment a bead of blood stuck to Dean’s skin, he was pulled forward inch by inch until his hands gripped Dean’s arm. He fought with himself to let go, to run before he could be tempted any further, but he didn’t stand a chance. Not when Dean’s hand was on the back of his head, guiding his mouth towards the open wound. Not when Dean ran his fingers through his hair and praised him as Sam sucked down the forbidden nectar from his skin. 

Sam was always meant to lose.

That’s why he sat next to the bed filled with guilt, his teeth and tongue stained with blood. He kept his head low, but he couldn’t help letting his eyes wander to his brother’s arm, the red liquid still dripping from his skin.

“Come on, Sammy.” Dean smirked, eyes filled black. “Have a taste.”


End file.
